


Walk Off.  1/1.

by punky_96



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Crack Fic, F/F, inappropriate use of saran wrap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 16:18:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15123227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punky_96/pseuds/punky_96
Summary: Re-post from LJ.  It was a 2-shot there because of limits.  Now it is the one shot it was supposed to be oh so long ago....Crack:  “You could work a plastic sack.”





	Walk Off.  1/1.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pdt_bear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pdt_bear/gifts).



> A/N: inspired oddly by the mash-up song “Brick Dick” from my dear sweet Pdt_Bear. Just to be totally crack-a-licious I’ll ‘splain a little bit… I could just see Emily and Andy in the kind of competition in the song sparring off and whipping it out. So, the idea of the competition was born and then I had to adapt it to Runway… Emily vs. Andy. This was the shape it took.
> 
> A/N 2: I had a roommate once that actually went to a club this way. I don’t imagine it was comfortable.
> 
> Looking back now with the joy of Lip Synch battle Andy vs. Emily. I’m a little proud. :)

**_Walk Off.  1/1._**  
  
Drinks at Federico’s was a rare but treasured treat.  It was not often that the cat let the mice out to play and so when she did—they made up for lost time in a blink.  Several blue and purple drinks later they had gone over every detail of their sorry personal lives and had moved back into the familiar territory of Runway and the cat that toyed with the fray of their nerves on a regular basis—Miranda Fucking Priestly.  Around drink number five they had moved into a contest over the worst Miranda glare on record.  Everyone thought that Andy would be the winner of this contest until Serena told them about the first month that she worked at Runway and Miranda had summoned her to her office to model some outfits.  Serena had modeled them for her since no one refused Miranda anything, and really trying on a few outfits wasn’t that big of a deal.  Then Miranda had asked her to model for the issue in those very clothes and Serena had had to refuse.  The look that Miranda gave her haunted her for six months and she did everything she could in order to avoid Miranda, including eating lunch in the Auto Universe staff lounge.  
  
Nigel cooed at this as it struck a memory in him.  He declared her the winner and bought her another purple whatever.  Senior staff member to them all Nigel’s judgment was deferred to.  He gave Andy an honorable mention to be sure and said that the Cerulean Speech was one of the best/worst he had ever heard Miranda give.  It was eloquent and quite descriptive coming from the Fashion Queen herself.  On a speech analysis level Andy had to agree, but she would never admit to him that as soon as she was home that evening she wrote it down from memory word for word.  Her humiliation would be complete if he knew about that.  
  
“It’s a good thing, Nigel saved you.”  Emily said over the top of her blue drink.  Andy wondered why the comment didn’t sting her so much even when there were two Emilys and then the Stanford Law Side of her brain said, ‘Moron, that’s because you feel no pain.  You’ve been drinking with bottomless alcoholics and you haven’t eaten anything all day.’  
  
“Saved me or not, I get Miranda’s attention all on my own these days.”  
  
“You do not.”  
  
`O RLY?’  Andy’s eyebrow SCREAMED from its perch over her eye.  “I work those clothes as well as you do.  Wear make-up just as hot as you.  And.  Miranda’s eyes linger over me more than you.”  
  
“A challenge!  A challenge!”  Serena squealed loudly and clapped her hands together.  
  
Emily fell halfway off her stool, but Serena caught her.  
  
“A Walk Off.”  Nigel said serenely as he downed his purple and blue concoction.  
  
“Oooh.  We haven’t had one of these since Emily was hired and trying to knock Genevieve off her pedestal.  That was a night to remember.”  Jocelyn added as she grabbed her purse and headed toward the door behind the group.  
  
Andy turned to her.  “Do these happen regularly?”  
  
Jocelyn nodded.  “Sometimes these are set up things in one of the studios on the lower floor.  Usually it’s just models fighting it out, or a little fun before fashion week in the art department, but sometimes…  Sometimes it’s rather like a joust or something from the Renaissance:  prove dominance or status or just to strut your stuff.”  
  
“What is this then?”  
  
“Oh, I think Emily is jealous.”  
  
“Of me?”  
  
“You said yourself that Miranda’s eyes linger more over you than her.”  
  
“But she’s with Serena.  And I just wanted to challenge her for being haughty all the time.”  
  
“Never-the-less you are in a Walk Off now and Emily plays dirty.”  
  
***  
  
Chilled and worried now, Andy stopped Nigel in the lobby.  “Who judges this Walk Off?”  
  
“Myself, Jocelyn, and Serena.”  
  
“Serena is out.  She’s Emily’s girlfriend.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“That’s not fair.”  
  
“Conflict of interest, much?”  Andy held up her hands to indicate that this was the way the universe worked.  Jocelyn hid a snicker behind her hand.  
  
“Fine.  Jocelyn get him.”  Nigel motioned to one of the night guards as she shot a quizzical look at him.  “Mr. Man there behind the counter.  He can be the guest judge then.”  
  
***  
  
Once everyone was assembled in the Closet, they realized that they needed music.  Rufus, one of the night guards, said he had a boom box down in the lobby area.  Nigel did not look impressed but sent him off to get the no doubt tinny sounding contraption.  Serena said that she had a brilliant set of music upstairs in her office and returned with a mixed CD curiously labeled ‘Pdt. Bear Mash-Ups.’  Andy wasn’t sure what to make of that when Emily blushed.  Was Emily her Pdt. Bear?  How British of her!  ‘How sweet.’ Andy thought and smiled her fresh-from-the-Midwest-smile at her, even though she had left her inner Midwest behind sometime after Paris the first year.  
  
Serena, being removed from judge duties, really had no place left in the competition so she offered to outfit both of the contestants.  Emily protested until she kissed her senseless, said this was all in fun, and she would be bored otherwise.  
  
The walk started at the farthest end of the walkway down the middle of the closet and it ended in the more open entryway where the judges were seated on various make up chairs that were rolled over for the purpose.  The music really was tinny in those speakers and Andy vaguely wondered how much worse than fired they would all be should Miranda come in to see this.  Tinny speakers, drunk employees and runway battle between her assistants that ranged from the formal gown to the shortest skirt sets known to man.  
  
When Andy strutted her stuff down the runway to some mashed up version of Three6Mafia’s _Lollipop_ in four inch black heels, black hot pants, black lacy La Perla bra and the famous orange poncho from her first trip to the closet—well, at that moment she was certain that even though she had been the devil’s assistant for years now, she had officially sold her soul to the devil in this one.  At the end of the fake runway, Andy whipped the poncho off and swirled it around like a matador.  The song hit its chorus and Andy broke into a dance that showed off every curve and muscle in her body so much so that Rufus began to cough to death and Nigel fell out of his seat.  Just as quickly as she started, Andy bent forward showing her whole back and picked up the poncho.  As she rose up she rolled her back to great effect and just as she was about to stand up straight she fixed her eyes on Nigel, Jocelyn and Rufus.  Jocelyn gasped as she realized that Andy’s make-up was a smoldering combination of reds and oranges to go with the poncho and she hadn’t even noticed it she was so mesmerized with the sinews of muscle as they moved during Andy’s approach.  
  
Smirking Andy stood up straight and slung the orange poncho over one shoulder before strutting down the runway again.  
  
Emily came down the runway in an old fur from the back of the closet and when she reached the midpoint between the back where Andy and Serena were waiting and the judges, she dropped the fur on a display table.  Her actions and body language mirrored those of Miranda Fucking Priestly as she looked disdainfully back up the walk from where she came and peered over the top of her large frame Gucci sunglasses before pursing her lips and turning with an almost audible huff to continue down the walkway.  Andy’s eyes traveled the length of Emily’s body.  Andy’s outfit was risqué, but Emily was in a dress that was clearly made to be taken off as it was all straps and hid only what the law required.  Andy had been nervous up until this point, but seeing Emily strut her stuff in THAT outfit made it all worthwhile.  Andy wasn’t sure when it began (sometime before Nate left she supposed, but she wasn’t aware until much later), but she had developed a healthy appreciation, not so much of fashion, as of the female form.  That this extended to just about any pretty girl and often crossed over to lustland, Andy had made peace with sometime after she stopped freaking out about the attraction in the first place.  She rarely acted on her observations having realized not long after her other revelations—she was horribly, devastatingly, irrevocably in love with the devil lady herself.  
  
At any rate seeing Emily in nothing but a bunch of straps with sparkle sent her pulse rate fluttering.  Even if she lost tonight, she was sure that it had been worth her while.  
  
Instead of a tongue-in-cheek dance at the end of the walkway, Emily simply slipped her glasses off Miranda style and stalked back and forth as they had all seen Miranda do a million times.  It was the sexiest stalk Andy had ever seen.  
  
At this point Andy and Emily felt certain that the judges had enough to make a decision so they took water bottles up the walkway to greet Serena and their fate.  As they arrived they heard Nigel make an offhand comment as part of the discussion, “With those eyes Andy could work a plastic bag.  I tell you.  I’d like to see it.”  
  
“I don’t believe you, Nigel!”  Emily screamed as Andy looked at her in shock.  Emily had lost it in a myriad of ways.  Working for Miranda Fucking Priestly it was considered physical therapy to lose your shit at least once a day so that you didn’t carry that kind of tension around with you.  
  
Serena caught a brainstorm then and squealed as she turned on Andy.  “Come on.  I have just the thing.”  
  
“And you!”  Emily rounded on her girlfriend in disgust.  “What is it you’re doing?”  
  
“You’ll see.”  Serena said and grabbed Andy by the wrist.  
  
“This was your idea.”  Emily screeched all mannerisms of their boss gone from her demeanor and most of her normal Emily-isms gone as well.  “I hate you all.”  She said and slapped Rufus about the head until he moved and she could flop down in his seat.  
  
***  
  
Emily was pacing by the time Serena returned.  She pulled out two more make-up chairs and set the music back to the last song on the CD—a mix of Nelly Furtado’s _Promiscuous_ and Rick James’ _Superfreak_ called _Promiscuous Freak_.    
  
They heard Andy before they saw her because Serena had pulled some of the clothing racks into the walkway to build anticipation.  At the closest one Andy’s steps stopped and she flipped her leg around the clothes rack and moved in some of the sexiest ways that one leg could possibly move.  Not so much that the one leg was so sexy, but that the movements of the rest of the body that the one leg implied were so hot.  The super high black stilettos certainly matched the backbeat of the song.  When Andy stepped out from behind her cover, Jocelyn gasped and Emily growled.  
  
Andy Sachs was wrapped not in a plastic bag, but Saran Wrap.  
  
Andy approached the judges and since Nigel was the senior staff member she went to the others first.  On the line “Don’t get mad, don’t get mean.”  Andy went up to Emily and ran her palm along Emily’s cheek.  She turned and flipped a wink at Serena just because she could.  Then she looked back at Emily as it repeated, “Don’t get mad, don’t get mean.”  As it switched back to the lines “She’s a very kinky girl, the kind you don’t take home to mother,” Andy twirled just so in front of Rufus who had found himself so far out of his league that he thought he had died and ended up in a super sexy Superbowl Beer Commercial for the last hour.  He actually bit his lip until it bled, but he managed to keep his hands to himself.  Andy followed the beat and sauntered over to Jocelyn and flashed her a wicked smile and she swung her hips and legs to the beat once again to show off all of her muscles hidden every day by such fashionable clothes.  
  
As the song ended, Andy turned her attention to Nigel.  She opened his legs and danced in between them.  Her make-up had been washed off and only thick eyeliner and mascara had been re-applied.  She fixed her eyes on him as she danced and as it said that she was a _very kinky girl_ once again she bit the tip of her finger and gazed at him through her lashes.  Then she trailed the same finger down his cheek and adjusted her hand so that she could smear her thumb against his lips.  
  
She turned her back to him and walked four steps or so away as the song ended and she struck a pose that she remembered from jazz classes in her youth.  
  
They were all about to burst into flames after that:  Rufus from lust; Jocelyn from shock; Serena from Emily’s glare; Emily from jealousy; and Nigel because he was right—Andy Sachs could rock a plastic bag.  Andy was going to burst into flames because Saran Wrap was not intended for wearing against the skin as a clothing item.  
  
However, before any of them could actually combust, a new presence was felt and heard in the form of the Ice Queen clearing her throat from behind the judges.  
  
Andy was the only one facing Miranda and she wished that the earth would open up and suck her down into the depths of hell.  She was also the only one to witness the looks on the others’ faces which were priceless, but there was no time to appreciate them.  
  
For a frozen minute that felt like an hour, they sat stunned before launching into a hurried escape in whatever clothes they were in.  Leaving Andy alone with Miranda in silence since the music ended with her performance.  
  
Andy was certain that she would never be in a Walk Off ever again, that she would kill at least one of her compadres for leaving her, and that she would be worse than fired whatever that might be.  
  
“A competition is not complete without a lingerie walk.”  Miranda said as she pursed her lips over Andy.  In the beginning of her time at Runway this perusal and critique sent a wave of sheer terror up her spine.  As time went on Andy felt a flash of pride that she had finally met Miranda’s minimum requirements.  After her various realizations and certain efforts to impress Miranda it was a wave of desire that flashed down her body and landed in her wet panties.  Expecting sheer terror, Andy whimpered as Miranda’s gaze incited a wave of ecstasy that nearly toppled her to the ground.  Andy turned a marvelous shade of red and could feel the sweat inside her Saran Wrap dress.  “You blush beautifully as well.”  
  
Miranda set her purse on one of the abandoned rolling chairs and walked around it until she stood directly in front of Andy.  For her part Andy was pinned to the floor.  She could not imagine walking on her coltish legs in these particular heels with Miranda Fuck-Me Priestly staring her over and complimenting her and asking for a lingerie walk.  Instead Andy tried not to die before she found out what happened next as she held her spot on the spindly heels she was in.  It occurred to her that she had no idea when Miranda had walked in.  None of them had noticed her until it was silent and she had cleared her throat.  Andy dared to peer at Miranda trying to read her face for any clues.  Had she seen the entire runway walk?  The flirty ending?  Or had she walked in right as she struck a pose and the song ended?  Andy was torn between wanting Miranda to see her ‘performance’ and wanting to die.  
  
Andy was mortified when she felt Miranda’s hands on her patting down and looking for an end to unwrap her unfortunate employee.  Andy should volunteer an answer to the unspoken question, but her throat was so dry that she could barely swallow let alone form words and actual coherent sentences.  After several moments of silent petting, Miranda simply took hold of Andrea forcefully and ripped the Saran Wrap to begin to unravel it.  Andy was certain that she had fallen down the rabbit hole.  She didn’t mind if it was all a dream or even a hallucination as long as she could remember the taste of Miranda’s perfume in the air, the feel of her fingertips as they unknowingly touched her skin, and the feel of how incredibly turned on she was.  If she could remember these details and feel these feelings in her memory then she didn’t mind waking up to her empty apartment or the padded cell of the insane asylum.  
  
Miranda unwrapped Andy to reveal a lovely white La Perla bra and not exactly matching, but white nonetheless, comic book boy short panties.  She ran her finger across the comic on the front of Andy’s panties and then looked into Andy’s eyes.  Finally, Andy swallowed and it took her neck muscles and her salivary glands all they could muster to make it happen.  Miranda looked her over from head to toe once again causing a blush to spread all over Andy’s super-heated body after the fire of her eyes and this whole experience washed over her.  
  
Miranda cocked her head to the side with a look telling Andy that she worked for Runway and really comic book boy shorts were not acceptable.  
  
Nothing else was said.  Miranda disappeared into the belly of the building on her way up or her way out.  Andy gathered her clothing and purse and rushed home to take the longest, coldest, frustrating-est shower she had ever taken in her life.  
  
‘Work tomorrow is going to suck.’  Was her final thought before a black sleep claimed her.  
  
***

 

***

  
Work the next day did not suck, contrary to her expectations. Andy was sent to fill in on the writing staff because Charlie was considering retirement for medical reasons and a replacement had not been found. Andy found working within Elias Clark from a different department was incredibly different. Even though it was Runway and fashion writing, Andy discovered that she felt quite fulfilled. She didn’t mind that her temporary filling in became a permanent position months later. It didn’t hurt that she was still able to catch an eyeful of all the beauties in Runway, including her long-time crush. She was also glad that she had retained her Runway status and Runway friends. After the revolution in her life of Nate’s departure and Lily and Doug’s turning of their cheek on her, she hadn’t really replaced them. Instead she had settled into her Runway family, which had worked in her favor since she was better able to work with Emily, and found Serena, Nigel, and Jocelyn quite fun to be around when away from work.  
  
It had been almost a year, but Emily still bitched about the New-Emily every time she talked to Andy. It was like a knee-jerk reflex Andy realized. Emily had to start every conversation with the former New-Emily by talking about the New New-Emily. After her introductory bitching, then Emily would ease into any new Miranda stories, an update on her life with Serena and whatever else flittered through her mind. “This new one, Andy. She might rival you. She worked for Anna Wintour at Vogue before this. She single-handedly held off a zombie horde, set up a photo shoot on the moon, and has a near photographic memory so the coffee is right and all the rest as well. I can’t wait for her to start taking the book. Do you realize Miranda hasn’t let anyone deliver the book except for me since she transferred you after the Walk Off?”  
  
Andy choked on her water at the mention of the Walk Off. There had been an unspoken rule among all of them that the Walk Off had never happened. Rufus had disappeared. Nigel, Jocelyn, and Emily had all withstood a long period of glares and studying looks that rivaled anything that had previously been on record in the Miranda Fucked-You-Up Files. Serena had escaped unscathed, but she had eaten her lunch in the Auto Universe staff lounge again for about three months, just in case.  
  
“What?” Andy asked once she had finished choking.  
  
“Didn’t you realize that she transferred you the day after the Walk Off?”  
  
“No, I, uh, Charlie was sick, and they needed somebody.”  
  
“And you never came back to the 14th floor did you?”  
  
“But she didn’t transfer me until Charlie retired four months later!” Andy wasn’t sure why she was so desperate to believe that Miranda hadn’t transferred her out the day after the Walk Off, but the hint of it filled her eyes with tears.  
  
“Maybe Charlie wasn’t gone for four months, and maybe you weren’t official up there for four months, but I had to call HR that morning once you had been shipped off.”  
  
“Em?”  
  
“Oh yes. I had to have five resumes on her desk in ten minutes. And she wouldn’t talk to any of us for a long time beyond the most minimal commands and those looks.” Emily shuddered remembering the terror she lived under during that time. “She even talked to the New Girl and told her to tell me stuff. I have no idea how we made it through those first months.”  
  
Silence. Andy’s mouth opened and closed as she sat staring blankly at her computer monitor.  
  
“Are you still there?”  
  
“Yeah. Yes. I’m here. I just hadn’t realized. I mean we never talk about that, do we?”  
  
“You’re right. But I guess it’s been a year already and none of us have gone missing. Well, except that security guard.”  
  
“Rufus.”  
  
“Hmm mmm. That’s the one. I thought he was going to kidnap you when you taunted him in the Saran Wrap.” Emily’s amused tone evaporated when she heard the ding of the elevator. “Shit. I have to go. She’s back. Why is she back?” Emily hung up. Andy shook her head.  
  
***  
  
“Em. You have to let Nigel come to the Bachelorette party. He’s one of us. I mean. He’s Nigel. And it’s not like there’s a Bachelor party.”  
  
“Oh fine.” Emily gave up. Between Serena and Andy, she didn’t really have a choice.  
  
“I can’t wait. I haven’t been out in quite a while. Hey what was that purple drink that we used to get with Nigel?”  
  
“Hooter. Purple hooter. Oh, that reminds me. We’re going to Federico’s this Wednesday. Are you in?”  
  
“Oh, wow. I haven’t been there in so long.”  
  
“Since the Walk Off and your last Purple Hooter, no doubt.”  
  
“Yeah. Why don’t we go there anymore?”  
  
“Because we got in so much trouble that night.”  
  
“Oh right.”  
  
“Hey, we can have a Walk Off at the Bachelorette Party. It will be the first time that we are all there again. It seems like one of us is always missing.”  
  
They laugh. “I guess the bartender can be the guest judge this time.” Emily let out a rather undignified snort and cursed herself. Andy always brought out the uncouth-ness of her girlhood. ‘What was it about that damn girl?’ She wondered. The years had proven how wonderful they were to each other despite the gigantic differences between them.  
  
Giggling on the phone like school girls up past their bedtime was a great feeling in Andy’s busy day. She couldn’t wait to have a Purple Hooter with Nigel, Jocelyn, Serena and Emily. Suddenly she realized that they had been talking about a Walk Off again and her giggles died a horrible death in the back of her throat and she said icily into the phone. “No Saran Wrap.”  
  
Andy heard a thud that she hoped was Emily falling out of her chair. “Shit. Ouch. Damn it.” Andy heard as Emily landed, felt the pain, and cursed her. When she returned to a civilized position Emily agreed. “No Saran Wrap.”  
  
***  
  
Andy returned to her desk at the end of the day two days before the Bachelorette Party to find a saran wrapped package on her desk. Everyone in her department had already gone home so Andy looked around once more and then sat down to unwrap the package. Once the Saran Wrap was mostly off Andy could tell that the package was clothing and another package of Saran Wrap: a deep cream corset bra, matching lace almost gone panties, garters, straps and knee highs. Andy was almost ready to kill Serena or Emily for playing this kind of joke on her, but as she grabbed the panties in her hand she felt the stab of a pinprick in her palm.  
  
Dropping everything unceremoniously to investigate the painful panties, Andy saw a note pinned to them and familiar handwriting. Handwriting that sent a wave of sheer terror up her spine, followed by a flash of pride that she had not been forgotten, and finally a tidal wave of desire that flashed down her body and landed in her wet panties.  
  
“I prefer these panties, but comics are appealing on you.”  
  
Andy checked the clock. Almost time for the book to be delivered. The New New-Emily didn’t know Andy very well, but if it meant not going into the devil’s lair and having someone else bear the brunt of her bad humor, then she was only too happy to wrap Andy up and hand her the book.  
  
Andy thought with a smirk that she would have never given up the opportunity to deliver the book in her time, but then again, this New-Emily, just wasn’t Andy.  
  
With a final tightening of her coat belt around her waist, Andy closed her eyes as the elevator doors closed. Roy was intrigued, but smart enough to not say anything. He drove off happy to be released for the day when Andy stepped out of the car. Andy breathed deep hoping against hope that she was right and would not have to ride the subway home in humiliation and Saran Wrap.  
  
Andy took the steps slowly in the inhuman heels. Quietly she put the dry cleaning away and placed the book on the table with the flowers. Andy looked up like this was the first time she had delivered the book and was glad to not see the red heads of the twins. She knew that they were gone for a week with their father and his new wife, but she still had halfway expected to see the little heathens peering down at her. Andy hung her coat in the closet with the dry cleaning hanging her purse strap over the hanger. If ‘Operation Wrap’ failed she could blindly grab the hanger on her way out and assemble herself on the sidewalk as she fled for home.  
  
Drawn by the irregular rhythm of her assistant dropping off the book and re-entering the closet, Miranda hoped against hope that her message had been received, understood, accepted, and maybe followed up on. She licked her lips at the thought of the under garments she had selected under Saran Wrap and over the muscular skin of Andrea. Feeling a wonderful sense of electricity in her body, Miranda stepped into the hall and locked eyes with Andrea.  
  
Miranda brought her hand up and flicked her first finger at Andrea once in a ‘follow me’ gesture. She turned to walk up the stairs. Following her uncertainly, Andy wasn’t sure what this room rightfully was. It was large enough to be a ballroom, but decorated rather like a library or study, and furnished with very comfortable looking furniture. Down the middle was a path much like the one Andy had walked almost two years ago in the Closet at Runway. Only now the only judge was Miranda and it seemed that Andy had already won whatever prize was on the line. Miranda walked to the far end of the room and poured two glasses of brandy. Then she turned her attention to a cupboard down below the nearby shelves. A boom box with tinny speakers and an old mix cd was retrieved and placed on the mini-bar with the glasses. Andy gasped as she recognized Rufus’ boom box as Miranda plugged it in. Miranda stalked to the entrance of the room leaving a shocked Andy near the boom box. When she turned around she saw Miranda had finished her drink, set it on a side table and she was lounging on a chaise near the door.  
  
Andy went into autopilot since her brain was too overwhelmed to actually process anything.  
  
She turned to the last song on the CD—the infamous _Promiscuous Freak_. It was a song that Andy had vowed to never listen to again. In fact, when she heard either song, she left the room or turned the station to get away from any hint of that song. Now, tonight, under Miranda’s gaze and silent encouragement—Andy thought it was the best song on the planet and hoped it would be played at her funeral.  
  
Finding the rhythm, Andy turned to face Miranda and walked off the best runway walk in the history of runway walks. With the whole song and only one rapt audience member, Andy found the slower back beat of the song and paused more than once during her approach to run her hands through her hair and run them over her body clad in the Saran Wrap. At one point, Andy even dared to lift her leg in front of her so that she could run her hand from her calf up along her thigh highs to the straps that disappeared under her wrap.  
  
When it got to the “Don’t get mad, don’t get mean” refrain Andy had reached Miranda. Andy danced in front of her running her hands all over her body in a silent plea for Miranda to touch her the same way. Miranda looked all over her body as if her eyes could touch Andrea the way that she needed to touch her, the way that Andy needed to be touched. So, caught in the gaze of Miranda Please-Fuck-Me-Now Priestly that she felt high, Andy was surprised when the song ended. She lowered her face but kept her eyes on Miranda from under her long lashes. Her heart was beating out of control and her body was on fire from a very special combination of heat, adrenalin, excitement, anticipation, and lust.  
  
Miranda stood on slightly shaky legs. Entering Andy’s personal space for the first time in two years, Miranda rested her hand on Andy’s hip and looked into her eyes. “Thank you.” She said in such a heartfelt way that Andy’s legs nearly buckled at the sound of it. “Are we on the same page?”  
  
“I hope so. Otherwise I made a colossal ass out of myself.” Andy brought her hand to the back of Miranda’s head and pulled her in for a kiss that seared her from the inside out like she had just swallowed a piece of the sun.  
  
Miranda stepped back and pat Andrea down in an effort to find the end this time. Andy contemplated helping her this go around, since she thought she might be able to speak, but she recalled how her body had clenched when Miranda had torn the Saran Wrap two years ago and just couldn’t tell her. Miranda did just that and Andy let out a small moan to which Miranda smiled and unwrapped her. Once the cream panty set was revealed and Andrea stood before her in impossibly high heels, thigh highs strapped up to the corset bra and the almost not there panties—It was Miranda’s turn to moan.  
  
Free at last, Andy nearly tackled Miranda onto the chaise lounge and began to strip her down so that they were in similar states of coverage. Once equal in nakedness and somewhat cooled off, Andy slowed down. Their kisses turned languid and they just enjoyed each other’s presence after two long years of drought. When they did come up for air, Miranda fetched the glass she had poured for Andrea and then led her into the bedroom.  
  
***  
  
It was almost a crime to take the undergarments off of Andrea, but Miranda was determined to reach the ultimate pleasure of her skin smooth against Andrea’s. Their lips were quickly bruised as they eagerly nipped at each other each fearful that there would never be enough. Kisses trailed along jaws, hot breath tingled behind ear lobes, and hands roamed where tongues dreamed.  
  
Miranda positioned herself behind Andrea and ran her hands over Andrea’s body cupping her breasts from behind and drawing out a moan from her new lover. In these heels, Andrea was taller than Miranda who stood behind her barefoot and intent on worshipping her until she passed out from pleasure. Kissing her shoulders and neck from behind as she slowly unclasped each clasp one by one, Miranda took her time with Andrea. This was a present for the both of them and a first time that could not be repeated ever again, if it was not done right the first time. Casting the bra aside at long last, Miranda turned Andrea to face her and then she kneeled before her. It was a gesture of power to Andrea even though Miranda retained control of the situation. Each reveled in the amount of give and take and play they could have with this dynamic between them in addition to everything else that they felt. Andy watched Miranda unclasp and smooth her hands over her skin as she disconnected the straps and then helped her to step out of her too high high heels. Then Andy fought to contain herself as Miranda lowered the garters and thigh highs with her fingertips dancing along very sensitive skin all the way down her calf. Again, she helped Andy step out of them before she rose and brushed her lace clad breasts against Andrea’s bare ones.   
  
Not giving Andrea time to react, Miranda claimed her in a kiss once more and backed her to the bed where she fell in a very ungraceful and very surprised fashion. It would have broken the mood, but they were both so high on each other that it almost made it sexier to highlight how out of control and happy they were. Miranda positioned herself between Andrea’s legs and lowered herself over Andrea to pepper her with kisses. Then she trailed kisses down her body. Covering first one nipple with her tongue and lips and then the other before continuing around her navel Miranda kneeled then. Closing her eyes to convince herself this was real, Miranda inhaled the scent of Andrea’s sex and swallowed hard. The first taste of Andrea on her tongue caused her own muscles to clench and then she was lost in the moment. She swirled her tongue up and down Andrea’s wet folds before swirling around her clit. Andrea’s legs closing in against her ears broke her attention momentarily and she brought up both hands to hold the inside of Andrea’s muscular thighs. She lowered her face then and plunged her tongue into Andrea’s wet opening thrusting with all she could, wanting to fill Andrea and claim her all at once. Her thighs trembled against her hands and Miranda vaguely heard sounds of pleasure from above her. She brought her tongue back up to Andrea’s clit and swirled a couple of times before sucking it into her mouth and licking against her as she did so. Andrea sat up on the edge of the bed very nearly knocking Miranda to the ground with the suddenness of her reaction. On reflex, Miranda rose and stepped back quickly to watch Andrea ride out her orgasm tightly wrapped around herself.  
  
When Andrea looked at her through her eyelashes, Miranda’s heart rate spiked out of control and her legs very nearly turned to jelly. Andrea stood then and wasted no time in stripping Miranda’s remaining undergarments off of her and then laying her down on the bed. Miranda would have made a flip remark about the rush Andrea seemed to be in, but she knew Andrea made her feel like a cave man and it was rather hot to think that she made Andrea feel the same way.  
  
In any case, all witty remarks were lost in her throat when Andy pressed her back into the mattress and spread her legs to either side of her so she could lean in for kisses. ‘Expert kisses,’ Miranda thought before Andrea’s hand found her nipple and there were no more words other than, ‘Andrea, oh, god, fuck, Andrea, don’t, and stop’ sometimes in that order and sometimes in random repeated patterns that would normally make either of them incredibly stupid, but at the moment were the greatest words ever uttered in the existence of human speech. Andrea pulled back to look into Miranda’s eyes as her fingertips slid against her hot sex. Miranda wanted to close her eyes and lose herself in the passion, but she knew without a word that this was about seeing it happen together. Miranda brought her hands up to hold Andrea and fought her desire in order to prolong the moment and gaze into the deep brown eyes of her lover. Andrea never broke eye contact as she reduced Miranda to whimpering and uttering nonsensical worship of Andrea. She did not break eye contact with Andrea, but her hips began thrusting to meet Andrea’s rhythm.  
  
Miranda screamed Andrea’s name when Andrea pulled her fingers away and slid them up her slit, before firmly circling her clit and it was over. They held gazes until the very end and when Miranda reached up clutching Andrea to her with her arms and wrapping her legs around her Andrea came again simply from the passion of the whole evening boiling in her veins. Without any other conscious thought they fell asleep stuck to each other in love, lust and sweaty skin.  
  
  
  
**_FIN, FREAKING, FIN_**  
  
…


End file.
